PRESENCIA/…they do not know it.

That’s what I used to believe. Then I got wiser…
PRESENCIA

…they do not know it.
A short story
by
David Alberto Muñoz

I have been thinking about it for a couple days. The whole attraction game is just that, a game. You cross your leg and throw your hair back to one side looking at him directly at the eyes. He approaches you with decision and the first line is so important…then you smile and if everything seems to be fine up to that point we continue. We like to believe we have found a very interesting person and perhaps we dress it up with touches of make-up to make it look more interesting. But in reality it is all in the mind isn’t it? Yes, I think it is all in the mind.

When we are young we want to fall in love completely and loose our hearts and minds inside the other person but soon enough we discover that the world is not perfect, that life can be very difficult especially when you try to deal with other people.

It all becomes a game, the game of attraction; it’s like fishing and catching.

I know most of my friends will agree; although there are those that always like to believe they have found the perfect person, the perfect man, and they want to play the role of Cinderella and be taken away by a charming prince that appeared out of nowhere to rescue the princess out of all her troubles.

That’s what I used to believe. Then I got wiser, I realized men only want one thing from me, my legs open. It is ok; sometimes I want to do it too. But the point is that we are so different, we are like oil and water, and sometimes we cannot mix…sometimes? I think it is closer to all the time.

I took some decisions in my life and decided I was going to marry a good provider. That is the way I was raised anyhow! I needed a man that was going to be responsible for his home and was always going to take care of the material needs of his family…love? He wasn’t bad in bed. We had fun. But at the end I guess I wanted more than just a family with a house and a car and a couple of credit cards to spend money.

After my divorce I went back to school. I was determined to make it on my own. What hurt the most were the comments he used to make about me having no education. I was taking care of his children! I was washing his dirty clothes and preparing dinner for him! I was determined to have a career and not to depend on him all the time.

It took me a long time. Going to college is not easy, especially for a single mom. I had to work, go to school and raise my children because he didn’t want any part of it. How easy eh? You can make a baby and drop him at the care of his mother…she will take care of him…I will never regret raising my children but I don’t think it’s fair!

It was then that I discover that all men are the same. I was a relatively young woman, single in a contemporary world I had not experienced. I believe I am attractive. I might not be Marylyn Monroe but please there is always going to be a couple guys trying to hit on you regardless where you are or even how you look. It is a cruel and cold world. Everybody was hitting on me, not only fellow students, neighbors, professors, people I meet at the malls, even guys that were just passing by as I was walking through the streets! I have to be honest at least at first I did enjoy all that attention!

It took me a long time to start dating again. I wasn’t ready. I didn’t even know how to do it anymore. Now that I think about it, it makes me laugh. But eventually I decided what the hell! I am a woman and yes, I would like to have a man! Oh Lord almighty! I could tell when they lied, when they were making a pass at me, when they were just bore pretending they like me.

I did go to bed with one or two, just because…I was still angry at my ex! I don’t know if that makes any sense. It was as if after so many years all I wanted was to feel love. It didn’t matter if they could not understand me. Who can truly know another human being?

I hate it when all my friends talk about their special someone.

“My boyfriend is real special. I don’t think there is anyone like him.”

“We really have a super special relationship. You don’t know.”

“My husband and I still make love almost every night and let me tell you we have been married for over 10 years.”

Bla bla bla…

Of course everybody thinks they have a great special relationship! Why would you be in one if you didn’t think so? Although you could be surprise how many people actually get in some really strange relationships.

Then the anger came out! I was always attacking males. Even the nice guys who at least tried to please me I would just tell them how inconsiderate they were, how stupid they looked approaching a female and how impossible they made it for a woman to like them!

Then I guess I went full circle.

I want what I used to have and can’t have anymore
I want what he has but does not want to give me anymore
I want what we both can have but it doesn’t make sense anymore
I want him but I can’t have him anymore…

What I mean to say is sometimes we like to convince ourselves that what we have is the best…and perhaps after a lifetime of affairs, we might discover that indeed it was the best…or maybe not...

I know what a woman wants. The same thing a man wants but they do not know it.

© David Alberto Muñoz, Ph.D.

Faculty Philosophy & Religious Studies

Chandler-Gilbert Community College

2626 East Pecos Road

Chandler, Arizona 85225-2499

(480) 732-7173

david.munoz@cgcmail.maricopa.edu

PRESENCIA/Me punzó mucho

Sobre el escritorio de mi oficina tenía algunos libros que había estado leyendo…

PRESENCIA

Me punzó mucho
Un cuento
Por David Alberto Muñoz

Cuando llegué a mi casa me encontré con un gato que estaba leyendo libros que había comprado hace ya algún tiempo. Tendido sobre ellos olfateaba como si buscara algo. Sus grandes ojos me observaron cuestionándome con esa actitud prepotente de los felinos.

De repente me pregunté:


—¿De dónde diablos salió?


Un maullido se dejó escuchar mientras velozmente el animal se desplazó por toda mi casa con la mayor libertad del mundo. Mi ojos solamente intentaron seguirlo como un niño esperando que su madre le de su mamila.


Me le quedé mirándolo totalmente sorprendido. No sabía qué hacer. Se sentó en una de las sillas después de haber rasgado el sofá de la sala más de veinte veces. El animal de repente se volteó y sentí que casi me gritaba exigiendo le acariciara su barriga.

Me acerqué y cedí con cierta ternura.

—¿Qué te traes? —le dije.

Sobre el escritorio de mi oficina tenía algunos libros que había estado leyendo: Inés del alma mía, Trópico de cáncer, Las púberes canéforas. El gatito observó las páginas con sumo cuidado para después emitir su muy peculiar crítica, revolcándose y queriendo comerse las letras impresas en papel, parecía decir:

—¡Estos libros yo me los embarro!

—Estás loco—me dije a mí mismo—¿Te vas a dejar llevar por un pinche gato qué sólo Dios sabe de dónde salió?

Al poco rato ya me tenía comprándole comida. Le llevaba comida seca y también sus latas de pescado, atún y mucha leche. ¿No es eso lo que comen los gatos?
Cada vez que llegaba a mi casa me recibía con mucho cariño. Yo hasta le cantaba; no estoy seguro qué, pero algo. Me enternecía verlo cerrar sus ojos y estirar su cabeza para que mi mano lo apapachara.

En cierta ocasión un amigo mío me hizo burla.

—¡No seas mamón! Nunca te he visto mostrarle tanto amor a nadie. ¿De cuándo acá tan cariñoso?

—No sé—respondía—me enternece.

Un día decidí ponerle nombre. Me la pasé varios días cuestionándome cómo ponerle. Tal vez Félix. No, se me hace muy común, Félix el gato, además no es completamente negro. ¿Qué tal Tigre? Parece ser un tigre en chiquito. No, no sé. Incluso tuve la tonta noción de llamarlo Epafrodito. Igual que aquel siervo del apóstol Pablo. Sería un gato bíblico.

Ya se me botó la canica.

Los días pasaban y el gato me dominaba cada vez más. Se acostaba en la cama y me ordenada qué hacer. Con su simple mirada controlaba cada uno de mis movimientos. Cuando estaba triste me alegraba la vida. Cuando tenía alegrías nos embriagábamos los dos para amanecer al día siguiente y tener que llevarle su comida a la misma hora y en el mismo lugar.

Una mañana, el timbre de la casa sonó.

Al abrir la puerta pude ver a un chamaco de no más de once años de edad. Traía la camisa sucia y su rostro se lo limpiaba cada dos segundos para detener los mocos que le brotaban casi como enfermedad.

—¿No tiene usted un gato que parece ser angora?

Me porté digno. Casi al instante por mi mente atravesó la posibilidad de que aquel mocoso fuese el dueño de mi minino. Sí, así terminé llamándolo: Minino.

—Pues no sé chamaco. ¿Por qué?

—Pues porque es mío güey.

—¡Oye, ese respetillo!

—Mire señor, ese animal es un baquetón de primera. Cada mes se nos escapa y escoge una casa para pasarse el rato a gusto. Ya lleva recorrida casi toda la vecindad. Lo mejor es que me lo de, si no, al rato capaz que lo corre a usted de su casa.

Levanté las cejas con mirada de escándalo. De en medio de mis piernas el mentado Minino apareció, y se refugió en los brazos de su dueño.

La verdad me dolió un chingo.

Nunca antes lo había pensado. Todos buscamos cariño, y a veces nos conformamos con el ronroneo de un gato que nos adopta mientras sea conveniente para él.

—No es macho señor, es hembra.

—¡AH!

Ahora entiendo, era una gata que supo coquetear con mi existencia.

La verdad me punzó mucho.

© Foto y texto David Alberto Muñoz, Ph.D.
Faculty Philosophy & Religious Studies
Chandler-Gilbert Community College
2626 East Pecos Road Chandler, Arizona 85225-2499
(480) 732-7173
david.munoz@cgcmail.maricopa.edu